Four figures materialized amid the howling blizzard; their forms barely visible through the swirling snowflakes. The biting cold gnawed at their exposed skin, prompting them to huddle deeper into their winter coats, their breaths forming icy clouds in the air.
In this wintry landscape, a woman with gentle eyes extended a bottle of lemon juice to a little boy making his body warm up. With a smile, she encouraged him to take just one bite of a succulent apple, its crispness a stark contrast to the harshness of their surroundings. The boy followed her instructions, savoring the tangy sweetness that burst upon his tongue.
Passing the bottle and the fruit to a girl standing beside him, their hands briefly touching in the exchange, then the woman and a tall man replicated the same act. Together, they pressed on, their footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of snow.
They arrived at the outskirts of Paasilinna, the wooden cottage by Lake Tuoni looming before them like a refuge. Their eyes were drawn to the small lighthouse standing sentinel at the city's entrance, its red brick structure standing resolute against the relentless winds. The flickering light within cast dancing shadows upon the snow-covered ground, its beam defying convention as it pointed not toward the city, but toward the tranquil lake beyond.
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Meanwhile, deep within the heart of Paasilinna, Kyrie and Aran found themselves locked in a fierce battle against a fearsome chimera. This monstrous creature possessed three heads - one of a snake, one of a lion, and one of a wolf. Its body, a grotesque fusion of a bull and a bat, dwarfed even the mighty Jeibaa in size.
With precision and agility, Kyrie and Aran evaded the merciless onslaught of the chimera's attacks. Aran's ethereal projections, unleashed with calculated precision, inflicted wounds upon the beast, causing it to roar in fury and pain.
Yet, the chimera was no ordinary foe. With its keen senses, it was able to detect the trail of energy left behind by Aran's projections, even when they vanished from sight. With a swipe of its mighty paws, it sent Ávish and Únhsiv hurtling through the air, their bodies soaring until they were caught by the steadfast Āmharb.
Undeterred by the danger, Ávish summoned his strength and hurled his trident towards the chimera, the weapon embedding itself deep within the lion's snarling muzzle. Āmharb, seizing the opportunity, swiftly retrieved the trident from the chimera's grasp, and with a mighty swing, struck the wolf's muzzle, causing it to snap futilely at the air.
Yet, even as the chimera thrashed and lunged, its jaws snapping blindly, Āmharb devised a daring plan. Launching Ávish like a living projectile, the fearless warrior descended upon the snake's head, driving his weapon into its forehead and commanding it to sink its venomous fangs into the lion's vulnerable neck.
As the chimera writhed and convulsed in agony, Aran's projections vanished, leaving him drained of his energy. Sensing his weakened state, the creature relentlessly pursued him, its massive hooves crashing through the pavement, leaving deep fissures in its wake.
But just as all seemed lost, a glimmer of hope appeared at the crossroads. The four newcomers stood ready to join the fray.
Kyrie and Aran brought their stride to a sudden halt as they beheld the enigmatic group before them. At that moment, under the veil of snow-laden clouds, the scene resembled something out of an old tale. A motley assembly stood there in the frigid air.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
First, there was the man, an enigma wrapped in brown hair and skin the color of rich soil. His attire, like Kyrie and Aran's, bore the unmistakable black coat issued by Völundr. Bandages obscured his eyes, shrouding his gaze in mystery.
Beside him stood a woman, a siren of charm and danger. Her flamboyant dress flowed with the poise of a dancer's grace. The asymmetrical skirt whispered of rebellion and allure. She was the same one who had tried to charm Steve on the rooftop of Walhalla.
Between these two enigmatic figures stood a boy of tender years, no older than ten. His appearance mirrored the man's, right down to his brown skin and eyes. Dressed in black slacks and a simple brown jacket. The kid sought refuge behind the figure of an older girl.
Dressed in a green, long-sleeved shirtwaist dress, this girl, twelve years of age, served as the boy’s shield. Her ponytailed, blonde hair cascaded gently past her shoulders. Her blue eyes were a mirror of the woman's, a familial connection that spoke of a shared lineage.
Kyrie and Aran, ever vigilant, had taken steps to protect these newcomers. Yet, as Kyrie’s glanced upon the woman carrying a blowgun, his jaws hung slack with awe. With a grace that defied the harshness of the frozen land, she released a small dart that found its mark in the lion's snout. And then, a wondrous transformation unfolded.
In an instant, the air was filled with the scent of roses as vines began to sprout. The woman manipulated the rose vines with a simple wave of her left hand, causing them to grow larger and entwine themselves tightly around the chimera's three menacing mouths. The sight was both mesmerizing and terrifying, as the once ferocious beast was gagged.
As the woman's companion stepped forward, removing the bandages that covered his eyes, Kyrie and Aran couldn't help but be captivated by his unique appearance. His irises, a curious shade of yellow with pupils elongated like those of a lizard, met the chimera’s gazes.
“Don’t look into my eyes,” the newcomer yelled. And then, just as quickly, he veiled his eyes once more. The once-vicious chimera now stood as a lifeless sentinel, frozen in stone.
A hint of curiosity tugged at the corners of Kyrie's lips, and he could feel Aran's intrigue mirrored in his friend's eyes. Before them, the young girl dared to approach the chimera. Each step through the snow was a delicate dance. She reached out to touch the chimera's stony legs, prompting cracks to slither through its form. Snow showered around her as she fell while scrambled back to safety, her fall more comical than perilous.
Aran's voice cut through the stillness. "Who are you?"
The woman, her voice an entrancing melody, graced them with a wink as she answered, "I am Alouqua, he is Naga, the boy is Ravi, and our feisty young brat is Bietka."
"Mother, don't call me that!" Bietka protested, her cheeks puffing in defiance.
Kyrie couldn't help but be amused by the young girl's spirited reaction. Despite the chill in the air and the seriousness of their situation, her feisty personality was a bright spark.
"Well... the spoiled girl is Bietka," Alouqua remarked, her eyes rolling in a teasing manner. Bietka's embarrassment was clear as her face flushed, her pout making her indignation all the more endearing.
Kyrie decided to delve into the heart of the matter. "Did Völundr send you here?"
Bietka, not one to back down, responded promptly, "Mr. Zaid sent us."
"Zaid?" Kyrie echoed, genuinely surprised by the name.
Alouqua clarified, "He's an old friend of Völundr's. He requested us to deliver this note to you."
Kyrie accepted a letter with his left hand, his curiosity growing. With deft fingers, he opened the envelope with his mouth and unfolded the paper. The words began to appear one by one, revealing their message. "Come to me, ask Alouqua to guide you... Zaid," Kyrie read aloud, his voice carrying the weight of his uncertainty. "That’s very uninspiring. What does he want?"
Alouqua, the enigmatic beauty, sighed softly. "No idea, but I'm sure it's something important."
Naga, the man with yellow eyes who was now blindfolded, chimed in with a touch of urgency. "We are here to stop this. That old Zaid told us about a way to make Alice regain consciousness."
"So... let's go. We've got to go fast." Aran, the pragmatic and ever-focused friend, didn't waste a moment.
Then the group parted ways, Kyrie left with Alouqua, and Aran stayed with Naga and the kids.